If You Are Reading These They May Be About You
#57 of poetry
I woke up with the pieces of these rattling around in my head. The first haiku is in fact an accurate description of the circumstances of the writing.
I don't usually write horny poetry. And I don't usually write haiku. Yet here we are.
Husbands beside me
Breathe loud in the darkness
Just before sunrise.
I ought to sleep more,
But all my dreams were passion
And I am too roused.
All my dreams have turned
To smoldering near-erections
And poems half-remembered.
Poems to many friends
Whom I wish to hold, naked,
And talk about poems.
To friends who are men
And also wolves or foxes
Or lions, in their souls.
To friends who are bears,
Who fight like hungry badgers,
And who love like dogs.
Poems of the passions
That animals like us stoke
For we're not yet dead.
Poems of the feeling,
Against my grateful muzzle,
Of my god's chest fur.
Poems that speak of
The little gay rabbits.
Prayers for their asses.
For who will pray for
The little gay rabbits,
If not you and I?